Protecting Fate (5 page)

Chapter Six

Sara spent a restless six hours in her bed before she gave sleep up for a lost cause. Her knees and butt were a little scraped from the concrete outside the pool, but it was her pride that stung the worst. She was well aware that her self-assurance bordered on arrogance, but she’d been half a second away from giving Z the blow job of his life and he’d knocked her on her ass in his rush to put as much distance between them as possible. It made her want to shred something.

Reject her once and she had no problem coming back swinging, even stoop to begging to get what she wanted. Reject her twice? No way. It was a done deal. She wasn’t nearly masochistic enough to keep throwing herself at a man determined not to touch her.

No, he could just stay over in his side of this stupidly large house, and she’d stay here. Maybe they could work out some kind of kitchen schedule to really avoid each other.

As if thinking about food was all the reminder her stomach needed, it growled. Loudly. Sara flopped back onto the bed.
Why him? Why couldn’t they have picked some old, ugly grizzled friend of Uncle Rodger to keep me safe? Why did it have to be Z?

As tempting as it was to hide in her room until her embarrassment faded, she wasn’t willing to starve herself to avoid him. Which was a damn problem because she didn’t have anything to wear. Sara had always seen clothing like a suit of armor—and armor was something she desperately needed right now.

She dug through the drawers of the dresser, but it was empty save for a short kimono-style robe that barely hit the tops of her thighs. Not something she should be wearing if she wanted to convince Z she was done trying to seduce him. But the only other option was to wear the dress she’d had on last night, and the memories now attached to
that
made her want to toss it into the nearest bonfire.

The robe it was.

She belted it as securely as possible and headed down to where she hoped the kitchen might be. Three wrong turns and more rooms than she wanted to count later, she finally found it. And it wasn’t empty.

Z sat at the little nook table, annihilating a bowl of cereal. He didn’t look up as she came into the room, just finished the bowl, got up, dumped it in the sink, and disappeared out the other door. Without so much as a fucking word or anything that would acknowledge her presence. Sara stared after him for entirely too long. Had she come down with the plague in the last six hours? Turned into a ghost? Because the only other explanation was that he was so pissed about what almost happened—twice—last night that he was ignoring her.

“Men.” Needing to distract herself, she rummaged through the cabinets, finding enough food to feed a small army for a month. She grabbed a bunch of ingredients and arranged them on the counter. Cooking sounded really excellent just then, the more complicated the better. She’d make a delicious breakfast, and then maybe she’d bake cookies and something a little heartier, so she wouldn’t have to leave her room for the rest of the day.

She couldn’t—wouldn’t—hide forever, but there was only so much of the silent treatment she could stand from a grown-ass man who should know better. Even thinking about it now made her blood pressure rise dangerously. She broke three eggs into a bowl and then grabbed a fork, whisking them hard enough to put them in danger of sloshing over the edge of the bowl. Then she set about chopping the onion and mushroom, muttering to herself as she did.

He was an idiot. That was the only explanation for him turning her down not once, but
twice
. He was attracted to her. He wouldn’t have pulled that devastating Dom thing if he wasn’t interested, and his body had more than spoken for itself. Last night in the pool, he’d been half a second from touching her. If he had, they’d be lounging naked in bed right now, instead of her in the kitchen by herself, cooking.

“Holy crap, what did he do?”

She looked up from behind the absurdly high pile of vegetables to find Ridley and Garrett standing in the doorway Z had left through earlier, shocked expressions on their faces. Her brother backed away slowly. “I’m going to…go get a report.” And then the coward fled.

Ridley had no problem rounding the kitchen island to hug her. “You’re angry-cooking. Want to talk about it?”

She carefully set the knife on the chopping block. “If you want to whisk up the rest of the carton, yeah. I do.” If she didn’t talk to
someone
, she was bound to burst. God, she’d never felt so twisted up and off-center around anyone before, let alone a man. So she filled Ridley in while she cooked the sausage and sautéed the onions and mushrooms. “And then he just walked out of here this morning like I wasn’t here.”

Ridley turned sympathetic dark eyes on her. “He’s being man-stupid.”

“Well, I’m done with it. I know how to take a hint.” She’d already practically begged him to fuck her. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of doing it again.

“You know, Garrett sometimes tells me stories about Z.”

“I don’t want to hear this.”

“Yes, you do.” Ridley stirred the food. “The man is almost godlike to his team. He won’t ask them to do anything he won’t do, and if it’s at all possible, he takes the rougher missions so that they don’t have to bear the burden of it. You know how Will and Garrett are control freaks?” She waited for Sara to shrug in agreement. “Well, Z blows them out of the water. If you’d told me you were going to set out to seduce him, I would have laughed in your face—lovingly, of course.”

She snorted. “Of course.”

“He’s a tightly wound spring, and it sounds like you got through to him, whether he wanted it or not.”

Sara rolled her eyes. “I didn’t tie the man down and steal his virtue.”

“No, but he lost control with you, however briefly. That’s got to scare the shit out of him.”

Maybe. Or maybe it was all just an excuse to keep as much distance between them as possible. “I don’t know. My pride is a delicate creature. It can only take so much abuse.”

“Oh, please. You have pride enough to spare.” Ridley grinned. “Besides, when has the great Sara Reaver ever met a wall she didn’t go over, around, or through? Just think of Z as one giant, stubborn wall, and you’re golden.”

She speared a piece of the scramble with a fork and popped it in her mouth. Perfection. “A wall, huh?”

“Yep.”

Her best friend sure knew what to say to light a fire under her ass. It had always been that way, even as far back as junior high. Sara had been just as unstoppable in her teens as she liked to think she was now. So why was she letting Z’s issues stop her? He wanted her. He’d said as much before he suddenly decided to let her brother stand between them. She just needed to get his desire to override his potential guilt.

And she had just the plan.

Sara grabbed plates and dished up a portion. “Eat. Please tell me you brought clothes, because I need all the weapons I can fit in my arsenal.”

Ridley snickered. “That’s what she said.”

…

The last person Z wanted to see after last night was Garrett, but he couldn’t avoid the man. So he sat across from a coffee table in one of the house’s countless rooms, and listened to his report. Truth be told, it was better than Z’d expected. “Sounds like they want to scare her into submission.”

“That’s my thought. If they wanted to hurt her—” The big blond looked sick at the thought. “—they would have waited for her there. Even if she didn’t go into the apartment, it would have been child’s play to pick her up and toss her in a trunk. Or worse.”

A single shot and all their problems would be permanently removed.

It made his stomach twist to even think about something hurting Sara. “Then her laying low will make them think they succeeded, and they should move on.”

“Hopefully.” Garrett sat back. “You okay? You look off.”

Because he hadn’t slept in well over twenty-four hours. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Sara naked and crawling toward him, begging him to— Z cut off that thought before it could take root. Even with his friend right in front of him, he was hanging on by a thread. No one had roused him like Sara did—not even his ex-wife, who’d ultimately cost him everything. “I’m fine.” He kept talking before Garrett could question him further. “I have Joe patrolling up the road, and Logan is taking the backwoods covering the rest of the property.”

“Good. No one will get past those two.” He hesitated. “If you need more manpower…”

The thought of being under the same house as Sara
and
Garrett for any length of time was unbearable. “Better that you stay in NYC and deal with the threat.”

“Yeah, okay.” But he was still watching Z too closely. “You keep her safe.”

“I will.” No outside threat would touch her. But who the hell was going to keep her safe from
him?

They went over the next step a few times before he was satisfied. Garrett would take care of the work in NYC, combining his resources with Rodger Reaver. If those two couldn’t make the city safe for Sara again, no one could. Z would stay here with her until the coast was clear—for however long it took. It was both heaven and hell knowing that he would be spending an unknown time in close quarters with her. He didn’t like his chances of keeping himself in check for any amount of time, but he’d have to do it.

There was no other option.

They moved down to the kitchen, finding it empty except for a stack of Tupperware bowls with what looked like some sort of scramble in it. Garrett chuckled. “The only good thing about Sara being stressed is that she cooks. Just watch out for her temper—it’s as vicious as her food is good.”

Z had just a taste of it, and he could already confirm that. His jaw still ached a little bit from where she’d clocked him. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“There you are!” Garrett’s fiancée, Ridley, soared into the room and pressed a kiss to his lips as if they’d been separated for days instead of a single hour. Z ignored the surge of jealousy in his gut. He’d had that kind of intimacy and he’d lost it. He had no interest in trying for it again. At least, that’s what he told himself whenever the longing got too overwhelming.

“How’s Sara?” The question was out before he could think better of it.

“She’s fine.” Ridley gave him a look that raised the small hairs on the back of his neck and turned back to her fiancé. “I got everything unpacked for her. We should be heading back.”

“I was planning on talking to my sister, baby.”

“Since you have a penis, she’s not currently interested.” Ridley sailed out of the room, leaving Garret glaring after her.

He muttered under his breath, “She’s going to pay for that one.”

As glad as he was that his friend had found happiness, it physically
hurt
to see him with Ridley sometimes. When he was still smarting from his encounters with Sara? Yeah, that shit stung all the more. But he kept his feelings off his face with the ease of long practice. “Text when you get back to the city.”

“Will do. I’ll keep you updated all around.”

“Good.” It wasn’t until he was alone in the kitchen again that he leaned against the counter and closed his eyes.
Fuck
. He had to fix things with Sara, one way or another. It had been difficult as hell to pretend to ignore her this morning, and he felt like shit while doing it. There had to be a way they could talk about this like adults. He’d explain to her all the reasons she was totally and completely off limits. She’d have to respect that.

No reason not to do it immediately. The faster they resolved this awkwardness between them, the better.

He made his way up the stairs to the room she’d chosen for her own. It sure as hell wasn’t because he wanted to set eyes on her again. He knocked, waited, and got only silence as a response. Z knocked again. “Sara, I know you’re in there.”

Nothing.

Knowing he was breaking yet another rule, he tried the doorknob. It turned easily in his hand and he cracked the door to peek inside. She lay on the bed, surrounded by more pillows than one woman could possibly need, sound asleep. He opened the door a bit wider, taking in the fall of her blond hair, and the way she had wrapped her body around one of the larger pillows. It was all too easy to imagine her doing the same to
his
body.

With a silent curse, he backed out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. He’d let her sleep—their conversation could wait until she woke. Because, goddamn it, they
would
be having this conversation before another day went by.

Chapter Seven

Sara woke feeling refreshed and with new purpose. Tonight she’d successfully push Z over the edge, if it was the last thing she did. She’d figured out a plan as she was falling asleep earlier. Direct confrontation gave him the push he needed to walk away, so all she had to do was make him come to her. And then hopefully she’d just make him come.

She grinned and climbed off the bed. One of the things in the bag Ridley brought was a swimsuit, and she needed laps to take the edge off. Otherwise, she couldn’t guarantee that she’d keep control of herself as long as necessary to get Z exactly where she wanted him. And it was increasingly vital that she get him where she wanted him.

He wasn’t around as she dove into the water, but she swore she could feel his gaze on her from somewhere. Good. Hopefully he was remembering last night and sweating a little. It would serve him right.

Cutting through the water was a little slice of heaven for her. It didn’t calm her chaotic thoughts as much as usual, but it centered her. By the time she climbed out of the pool, she was ready. She went back up to her room and showered in the ridiculously large bathroom, taking the time to dry her hair and lotion up afterward until her skin positively gleamed. She opened the curtains to find that the sun had fully set, bathing the house in darkness.

Showtime.

She put on the robe and flipped on the lights in her room, the glare making it seem as if she had all the privacy in the world—when, in reality, anyone on the other side of the house could look through the window and see every detail.

She went to the tall oval mirror across from the bed and turned this way and that, checking her appearance. Perfect. Next was music. She set her iPod on the dock—another thoughtful gift from Ridley—and turned on her favorite, ZZ Ward. God, this music never failed to put her in the mood for a sweaty sex session.

Letting her eyes close, she raised her hands over her head and gave herself over to the music, careful to stay in the direct line of sight of the window. Her hips rolled with each beat, the robe coming slowly undone and finally slipping off her shoulders to the ground, leaving her naked.

It might be her imagination, but she was sure she could
feel
Z watching her, feel his eyes follow her hands as they cupped her breasts, playing with her nipples until they were hard points, and then sliding down her hips to her thighs. She parted her knees as she shimmied down to the ground, giving him the view of a lifetime, and then rolled her body up.

The song ended, quickly replaced by an even slower one, the throbbing beat seeming to take up residence between her legs. She crawled onto the bed and parted her legs wide, slipping her hand down to touch herself.

The phone rang.

Sara smiled as she circled her clit with one finger and reached for the phone with the other hand. She let it ring three times before answering, “I’m a bit busy.”

Z actually growled. “Stop.”

“No.” It felt unnatural to deny him, but she wasn’t afraid to play hardball right now. She’d bet that the only thing to get him over here was to blatantly disobey one of the orders he’d given her in the car on the way to the house, so that was exactly what she was going to do.

“Stop touching yourself
right fucking now
.”

She dipped a finger inside and moaned a little. “If you don’t like it, don’t watch.”

He took a harsh breath, as if he was actually going to yell at her, and she tensed. But his voice dropped. “You’re trying to manipulate me.”

“No, Sir.” She used the term knowing it would drive him nuts. “I’m trying to get off—and you’re distracting me.”

“Don’t you dare—”

She hung up, and tossed the phone off the bed, ignoring it when it immediately started ringing again. Let him twist while he watched her—she could already feel the pressure inside her ready to spike. She dug her heels into the mattress, stroking herself faster, and used her free hand to pinch her nipple like Z had in the car. Thinking about him, about how she’d felt when his harsh words commanded her, was enough to have her teetering on the edge. She moaned.

Her door flew open hard enough to bounce off the wall. She froze, opening her eyes to find Z towering at the end of her bed, his expression thunderous. He looked like some sort of demon who was going to either give her the greatest pleasure of her life or punish her for every offense.

She sure as hell hoped he’d do both.

“You.” He grabbed her ankle and dragged her to the edge of the mattress. She had a wild moment of panic and struggled, kicking him in the shoulder with her free foot, but he growled and caught her other ankle, spreading her legs wide enough to hurt. “I gave you clear instructions.”

Any response she might have come up with—and there were a few choice ones—died in her throat. This was what she’d wanted, but she’d made a horrible mistake by pushing him past the point of no return. “Z—”

“Silence.” His tone brooked no argument. “You thought I was making empty threats, sweetheart?” He dragged her further off the bed, until her ass was only halfway on the mattress. “You should know better. Tell me your safe word.”

“Wolfman.” The word was barely more than a whisper.

He flipped her in one smooth move, pinning her to the bed with a hand on the back of her neck. “Did you come?”

She pushed against his hold, but she wasn’t going anywhere unless he took her there. She’d thought she felt heat from her impending orgasm, but it was a tiny campfire compared to the inferno blazing through her now. “No, Sir.”

“I would be disappointed in you if you did.” His hand came down on her ass, hard enough for her breath to catch in her throat. “But you intended to come, even if you didn’t reach it.” Another slap on the other cheek. “I promised that any disobedience would be punished, and it will be.”

She bit her lip hard enough she was worried she’d taste blood, fighting against the urge to beg him to punish her, to fuck her, to do whatever he damn well pleased with her. He shoved two fingers into her, making her cry out. Z cursed. “So wet. You’re close.”

It wasn’t a question, so she didn’t respond, but apparently he didn’t need her words for confirmation. He withdrew his fingers and delivered another devastating slap to her ass, and then another, as if he couldn’t stand the thought of the cheeks receiving uneven treatment. “Sweetheart, the only time you’re coming tonight is when you’re coming around my cock.”

…

Everything had ceased to exist for Z the second Sara’s robe hit the floor. He’d watched with growing agitation as she’d touched herself, as she climbed on the bed with the obvious intent of masturbating, and everything peaked when she’d directly disobeyed him. It didn’t matter that he had no right to this woman or that just today he’d promised himself to put this all behind him.

He couldn’t let that kind of bullshit stand.

And now here she was, bent over the bed, her ass red from his hand, her pussy so wet it had been a fight to stop finger-fucking her. He was out of control with no hope of stopping, and he damn well knew it. “I’m going to fuck you, do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” Her voice was partially muffled by the mattress, but he heard her clearly enough.

Z palmed her between her legs. “If you want to stop, use your fucking safe word now. Because I’m going to be inside you within ten seconds.”

She flailed, and he loosened his grip on the back of her neck until she could twist around and meet his gaze. “Make it five seconds, Sir.”

Fuck
.

He undid his pants with one hand, pausing to grab the condom out of his pocket before he kicked them off. “You’re a mouthy little sub, aren’t you? Do you know what mouthy little subs get?”

“A mouthful of cock?” She hissed out a breath when he spanked her again. “Sir.”

“You will—when I decide to allow it. Be good and I’ll let you suck me off.” He tore open the condom and rolled it on one-handed, never taking his gaze from her opening. Shit, she was so damn little. If he wasn’t careful, he’d break her. “Hands on the mattress. Push yourself up.” He guided her forward until she was on all fours on the bed. It put her pussy exactly where he wanted it. He leaned down and drew his tongue up her center, delighting in her cry as much as he did in her taste. She was soft and wet and welcoming and everything he could have dreamed of.

He sucked on her clit and moved on before she could do more than whimper, thrusting his tongue inside her. She was ready for him, probably had been the moment he charged into her room. He stood and yanked her back so that her feet hit the floor. She barely had time to brace herself when he thrust into her in one smooth stroke.

Z reclaimed his hold on the back of her neck and thrust into her again, cursing at how good it felt. Words rose as he fucked her, “You wanted this. You’ve wanted this since last night in the car. You would have fucked me right then, let me thrust into your tight little pussy, and then begged for more.” Her hands clawed the comforter, her breath sobbing from her throat, and still he didn’t stop his relentless assault. “And the pool. Fuck, woman, you would have sucked my cock right then without shame.”

“Yes, Sir.” She moved as much as he’d allow, taking him even deeper.

“I like that you have no shame, sweetheart. In fact, I fucking love it.” She cried out, her pussy tightening around his cock as she came, her body tensing as wave after wave hit. He pulled out before she could pull him over the edge with her and thrust two fingers into her, needing to feel her lose control, needing to feel her tighten around him again. It wasn’t enough. Fuck, it wasn’t even close to enough.

Totally and completely out of control, Z flipped her again, shoving her onto the bed and falling onto her pussy like a starving man. He spoke against her heated flesh in between licks. “I didn’t give you permission to come.” He flicked her clit over and over again until her back arched. “Do it again.”

Her hands were on the back of his head holding him to her, but he wouldn’t stand for even that much. Z pinned her wrists on either side of her hips and kept going, driving her wild until she let loose a scream, coming against his face. He kept working her until she was limp and panting, totally spent. He crawled up to lean against the headboard and pulled her into his arms, letting her ragged breathing soothe him as little else could. This session had barely taken the edge off, but he needed her to realize who was in control.

Because there was no going back now.

She finally sighed, and he could feel her smile against his chest. “Not bad for number one.”

“Sara.” He looped his hand through her hair and used it to bring her face up to his. “I didn’t come.” He kept going even as her eyes went wide. “I’m nowhere near done with you.”